Tag: dogs

In honor of Valentine’s Day I decided to skip the crowded restaurants. I surprised my husband with dinner and a show at the Improv comedy club. They say that laughter is the best medicine and I felt it was time for some laughs as we still have some major communication problems and had a big, stupid, pointless blowup last night.

The show was good. Two opening acts and the headliner. All funny. But I learned one thing, don’t eat a full dinner at a comedy club. Stick to the cheese sticks and cocktails and you’ll be a-okay. On the plus side because I agreed to take a short survey I got 2 free tickets to another show. I’m hoping to use them to see A Pair of Nuts later this month.

Also, this weekend we got crafty. My husband and his friend bought some design your own Shrinky Dinks a couple weeks back. Guys being guys – I think their original plan was to use these to make lewd and suggestive pictures.

The friend stayed over Saturday night again so I insisted we make them. Weird thing? My husband never made these as a kid. He also had never baked cookies, made those makit and bakit sun-catcher things, or done a bunch of other stuff until recently. How do you have a childhood without this stuff?

Here’s the one that I made:

All You Need

The ones he made:

What the F*%^ is that on the left?

That thing on the left? It’s supposed to be our dog. I’m not sure why it has blood-shot homicidal eyes, but I’m not letting it anywhere near me while I sleep. In fact, I’m keeping it in another room or possibly even melting it in the oven before it decides to use it’s deranged, evil powers against me.

She was my first pet and my first dog. When I went with my Mom and Dad to get her, I knew right away she was the one. She ran over to me like she knew she was going home with us. The runt of the litter, but never shy.

She was funny and always knew exactly what you were saying to her. She was the reason we had to spell things like “go” and “ride”. I’ve never met a smarter dog.

She licked my face when I cried because my parents were fighting. She sat with me on the couch curled up in my special blanket and kept me company when I was alone. I used to draw pictures of her while she was sleeping.

She ran off when I was 12 not long after my parents got divorced. Another blow at a horrible time. I miss her still.

This is the stuffed Wicket that my hubby bought for me at Downtown Disney a couple of years ago as a surprise. He insisted that I had to take it with me when I went on my wild woman adventure. Wicket Goes to Camp.

This furry, little alien follows me around the house. He likes going on drags around the block and being fed. He also believes that the stuffed Wicket belongs to him. If Wicket is left unattended at ground level he will quickly be dragged under the bed and disrobed. My hubby sent me this picture while I was away. I’m curious as to what all the snow is about, but I’m probably better off not knowing. Strangely enough, his name is Chewbacca, not Wicket, even though he DOES look like an Ewok.

The USB drive that was waiting on my desk when I got back from my adventure.